A dream darker than Black
by tinytim12
Summary: A brother and sister, spreading chaos wherever they go. The Black Reaper, dispatched to end their reign of terror. Were such horrors meant to exist in this world?


The blonde man and the blond woman stood silently, their suits, already crisply pressed to a black hue, making them look like mere shadows in the dim light. Kizano grunted, nodded to one of his men, and they opened the briefcase. Inside gleamed forth several thousand dollar bills.

'There's twenty k in here,' Kizsano said. 'All ready in one neat package.'

'Very nice,' said the man.

'So, do we have a deal?'

'Could you wait a moment, sir? Let me consult my sister.'

The blond man stepped back, and the blond woman leaned in and moved her mouth close to his ear. It took a moment for Kizano to realize she was whispering something to him. It was so hard to tell amidst so little light, and even then her face barely flickered. The brother and sister stood bent over each other in that manner, clouding the warehouse with utter silence.

Kizano hated silences. After a while he couldn't bear it any more, and said, 'Well?'

'Shhh,' the man held up a hand, smiling. 'She's talking to me.'

One of the men started forwards, snarling suspiciously, but Kizano held him back. He did a clean and orderly business here, despite what everybody thought.

Finally, the man straightened up. 'She says, yes.'

The woman herself had not changed her expression, her eyes, mouth and the rest of her face still as blank as a slate. For a moment, Kizano thought she might be a Doll…but Dolls couldn't talk to people on their own accord, could they?

In any case, Kizano was relieved. He had heard stories about Contractors, monsters that supposedly killed without discretion and destroyed everything in their path. And Kizano had always known this to be untrue. Contractors weren't killing machines. They were just rational. A businessman hardened and molded by ten long years like Kizano could understand that – even appreciate it.

As his men handed over the money, Kizano could not resist a small quip. 'Do you know why I brought so little men with me here today?'

The woman's gaze remained fixed in the distance, but the man smiled. 'I'd wondered about that. There are only two men with you, and, what's more, they don't even have any heavy weaponry. Just a few revolvers. You're packing light on security, for a Mob official.'

'That's right,' Kizano grinned back. 'And you know why? Because I already knew you wouldn't try any double cross. You know as well as I do the consequences of a betrayal, and the rational thing to do would be to just play by the rules.'

'So you assume I'd do the rational thing, like what you think a Contractor would,' the contractor said. 'Looks like you've got me all figured out.'

'Heh. I wouldn't put it that way, but that's the gist of it,' Kizano grunted, then sneezed. 'Anyway, where is it?'

'Where's what?'

'The item.'

'Ah, yes the item,' the contractor scratched his head. 'About that. I'm afraid it's not here.'

Kizano lost his grin immediately. 'Not…here?'

One of his men stepped forward. 'What the fuck you playing at, you Contractor?'

'Sir,' the contractor said to him, putting his arm on his shoulder, 'Please calm down.'

The mobster's eyes widened. Then his eyeballs enlarged further, and further, until they were practically bulging out of the sockets. He let out a scream and crashed to the ground, his body jerking like a broken puppet.

'That's better,' the contractor said.

The other mobster rushed at him. The contractor caught the mobster's hand and soon the gangster was on the ground next to his friend, foam gushing out of his mouth as his mouth yawned open in a silent scream.

'Wha – what?!' Kizano scrambled out of his seat, his collar damp with shock, and he looked up and saw the contractor's eyes were red, bright red.

'What did you do to them?!'

'Oh, don't worry. They're not dead. Just insane,' the contractor leaned in. 'But I think you should be worrying about your own little life.'

'These were my men!' Kizano growled, his hand reaching for his gun. 'My own blood! How could you – '

'Shut up,' The contractor pressed a finger to Kizano's forehead, and Kizano went limp immediately. The gun dropped from his yielding hands, and onto the ground.

'So you care for your comrades, do you?' the contractor murmured. 'Pretty nice for a hardened gangster.'

'Aaaa….aaahhh…' It was like a thousand spears piercing the front of his skull.

'I see. You don't care for your men as people but instead as goods that you own,' the contractor shook his head. 'Narcissism. Disgusting.'

'You're mad,' Kizano got out. 'My blood brothers will get you for this.'

'You mean the Mob? They're welcome to come and try.'

'How – how could you do this?! You – were supposed – to be – a Contractor!?'

'That's what I hate about you people,' the contractor said. He wasn't smiling anymore. 'You always think you've got us all figured out.'

Kizano had lost all control of his muscles. He could only stare at the contractor's flawless, blonde face, and stare at the redness of his eyes. As he watched, the redness seemed to expand, first engulfing the contractor's face, his body, and then the whole room. Amidst the hellish cloud, shadows of alien make and shape rose up from the darkness. Kizano opened his mouth and screamed.

The contractor dropped the man to the floor, and turned to his sister. 'Come on. We've got to get out of here.'

The woman, who had barely moved through this whole ordeal, nodded once, a movement so imperceptible only her brother could have recognized it. He went up next to her, and they left the warehouse together. Behind them, three gibbering men lay unmoving in their own puddles of drool.


End file.
